Page 40 of Half Cocked

I scrambled off the bed, clutching the sheet to my waist, as I did my best to put distance between my mother and my cock in such tight quarters. Pretty sure the big guy woulda crawled up inside me if he could.

“Ma, what the fuck are you doin’ here?” My eyes scanned the room as if my girl might just materialize from one of the walls. “And where’s Dani?”

“I live 'ere or don’t ye remember?” My mother waved a dismissive hand before throwing her legs over the side of the mattress and onto the floor. Standing to her full height, which wasn’t much, so that she could close the distance and point a finger in my direction. “Ye musta forgot. 'Cause me Conny wouldn’t be dumb enough to be sinnin’ under his da’s roof.”

“Ma…”

“Don’tMame, boy.” She shot me a glare that had flashbacks of my teenage years flooding my brain, and threw an arm out towards the bed. “Now sit. Yer gettin’ blood all over me sheets.”

My eyes dropped down to the red splotches seeping through the white, semi-translucent fabric, then back up to my mother again as my mouth spread into a sheepish grin. “Sorry. But I really do need to find Dani.” I raked a hand through my hair as my thoughts went a mile per minute. “I’m worried she’s out there doin’ something stupid.”

My ma didn’t bother to look at me as she started rooting through the drawers, finding and pulling out an old first aid kit before wadding up some gauze. I used to bleed a lot as a kid too. So this shit was nothing new to her. “Girl’s got enough sense to sneak out on ye in the middle of the night. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

“You saw her leave?”

“Mhmm,” my mother hummed as she removed the tape from between her teeth and sealed the gauze in place.

“And you didn’t try to stop her?”

“Ain’t no stoppin’ a woman who’s got 'er mind set on something, Conny. You’d do well enough to remember that.”

I pushed back up from the mattress, took a few steps, dropped the sheet, and bared my ass to my ma for as long as it took me to tug on my discarded sweats. Without thought, I slipped my hands into my pockets, turning them inside out only to find them empty.

“Son of a bitch,” I hissed under my breath, and my mother climbed up on a chair to slap me upside the back of the head. “Sorry—hey, Ma, can I use the house phone?”

She studied my face for a second, then dipped her chin in a curt nod. “Make it quick, and keep yer voice down. Yer da is still sleepin’.” Then my ma pushed open the bedroom door, stopping on the threshold to peer over at me. “I’m supposed ta tell ye not to follow 'er by the way. That’s what she said. But we both know I’m better off tryin’ to blow hot air into a cup and call it whiskey.”

The morning air nipped at the back of my neck as I stood outside my folks’ place, waiting for Zeke to pick me up. I shoved my hands into my pockets, my hood pulled over my head and my weight shifting from one foot to the other. Trying to keep the chill from creeping up my spine.

I knew if I called, he’d answer. And there really wasn’t anyone else I could count on at the moment. Not anyone who would indulge my stupidity as much as he would, while also ensuring I didn’t fly off the rails. There was balance there. And right now, I needed fucking balance. I was going out of my mind thinking up all the worst-case scenarios. All of which ended with Dani dead, me single, or a fucked-up mix of the two.

I could hear the rumble of his Civic before the fucker even rounded the corner. And I was jumping off the sidewalk and into the middle of the street by the time the dark-blue paint job on Zeke’s decades-old Civic came into view.

41

“Danica Rossi,” Junior hummed my name, his leather shoes scuffing across the concrete flooring as he pivoted on his heel to face me again. “Why do I feel like we’ve been here before?” His grin curled the thin mustache on his upper lip, giving him that iconic villain in a silent movie look.

“How the fuck should I know?” I shrugged, dropping my eyes to my cuticles while wondering if it was blood or dirt staining my skin. “Can’t say that I recall ever being this close to your creepy ass…”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot you don’t recall, isn’t there?”

Now he had my attention. Whether I wanted to admit it or not. Sure, the bastard could be fishin’ but at the same time there was history there. Things I was pretty certain he knew. But couldn’t prove.

“What do you want, Junior? You sure went to a lot of trouble. Hunting us down at the hotel, threatening Connor’s parents, leaving that cryptic business card with a number that directed me here, so why don’t ya just cut to the chase and tell me?”

“Us? I couldn’t give two shits about your fuck toy, Dani. Though he does remind me of someone…”

There it was. The past coming to haunt me. But I couldn’t drop my guard, couldn’t let this little prick know his words had an effect on me.

“He’d be turning twenty-five this month, ya know? If your dad hadn’t put him in the ground on account of you.”

“Seeing as my old man is right there with him, along with my mother and brother—who were both innocent, mind you—I don’t understand all the bad blood. Or your obsession with hunting me down…” I shrugged before pushing off the wall to stand toe-to-toe with the little Irish shit. “Do you have a crush on me, Junior? Is that it? Because I can’t think of another reason for you to be so up my ass after all these years.” I watched his face, waiting for the discomfort to set in, for the look of disgust I was expecting. And found… nothing.

“Funny you should mention that. Why don’t we share a drink and then we can talk business?” Junior gestured to the door, guiding me out of his makeshift interrogation room and into a sparsely decorated office.

Other than four bare walls, there was a desk, a few chairs, a minibar, and not much else. It reminded me of a frat house more than a grown-ass man’s supposed working space. Which was fitting for an adult male still going by Junior. Add in the fact he got the nickname because he was his brother’s shadow (and not because he was named after anyone) and it was just pathetic.

He gestured towards the leather chair in front of the desk and I lowered myself onto the stiff material, which had clearly seen better days. A shiver ran down my spine as I did my best to not focus on the origin of the white stains. I took a steadying breath, returning my attention to Junior as he positioned himself across from me. It didn’t escape my notice how his chair was slightly raised. Allowing him to look down at me while encouraging meto look up at him. It was a move often used by men in power, meant to intimidate whoever was in the respective hot seat, give the other player a facade of authority. Leverage.

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